Not All Learning Happens in the Light

A STARRY NIGHT ON THE RIVER LEFT TRAIL

Sometimes the most meaningful lessons are taught in the silence; the moments where people are quietly listening and noticing. During Night Hike, these quiet moments of silence teach people to trust—to trust that they are safe even in the dark. Kids learn to trust and rely on their senses, especially when those senses are not as sharp at night. What is only an hour-and-a-half long program, turns into memories that will not be forgotten.

We start the night with a game of Bat and Moth. A game like Marco Polo that allows kids to have fun, but utilize senses that they do not often rely on. In the game, they learn it is not about speed, but about trust. With their vision limited, they lean on their classmates for guidance and  sharpen their listening skills as they try to win. It teaches them to trust their senses in a new way. When they focus on sound, they discover how powerful their hearing can be. They learn to trust one another and believe that their classmates, friends, and educators, will help create a safe environment. 

That same theme of trust carries over into one of my favorite parts of the night, the moment of silence. The kids are excited, but unsure as they step into the darkness. I ask them to trust me and trust that I will keep them safe in the woods. I guide them forward as their confidence begins to build. As we move carefully along the trail, I pause at a quiet stretch and tell them they are about to experience something new: a solo hike.

Some of the kids are ready, while others are hesitant. I encourage them to focus on their senses of smell, touch, sight, and hearing as they travel down the trail. I walk the path alone first, modeling what it looks like to move slowly and intentionally, and then give the signal for them to do the same. The first few seconds feel like an eternity in the dark, but eventually they start coming one by one. At the end, I have them wait quietly for their peers and build their confidence with a high five for their bravery. They explain that at first they were nervous to walk alone, but that nervousness quickly shifted into excitement — excitement to do it again. What begins as a scary, but thrilling, activity becomes one of their favorite experiences from our time together.

It is such a gift to share those moments with the kids, especially those who grew up in urban settings. While city life is beautiful, many of them do not realize that, above the skyscrapers and beyond the clouds, is something just as beautiful — the stars. Along the trail, I find an open area and invite them to lie on the ground, giving them space to pause, listen, and look up at the sky. When the silence ends, I ask them to share something they noticed. I help them locate constellations, many of which they have never seen or even realized were there.

At the end of the night, as the kids reflect on their day, I find myself reflecting on my time with them as well. I see hesitation shift into curiosity and uncertainty grow into confidence, and from that transformation comes growth. In watching their confidence build, I realize that I am growing too. As they learn to trust their senses and each other, I learn to trust myself as an educator.

As their confidence grows, so does mine. In those moments, I am reminded that experiences like these truly matter. The kids are not only learning about the night, they are learning about themselves and discovering how to be courageous and aware. Leading night hikes has been the highlight of my time at the Dunes Learning Center. The kids arrive eager, some even a little nervous, but all ready to step into something new. Providing them with an experience unlike any other has made this work incredibly meaningful and exciting.

Lauren Williams, First Year Educator